More Wonton Soup, Please, Ricardo

Today is the national "Day of the Teacher" (I'm amazed by the volume of holidays Peru has for various categories of people. So alive this culture!) so, of course, we head out to a Chifa for a team lunch. I'm not certain if I have mentioned Chifas before so I will give a quick recap. They are the Peruvian version of a Chinese restaurant. Lima has a very large Chinese population, and a seemingly even larger population of Chifas. The food tastes roughly 80% Chinese and 20% Peruvian, and it is typically very affordable. Now we all know Chifas.

Nine of us made the trek over to a Chifa in the Surco district after two of my coworkers attested that it was both cheap and delicious (necessary sidetrack: here in Lima, people use the word "rico" as an adjective for something that is delicious. I have talked to Limans who speak flawless English and they have confirmed that this translation is correct. What made me suspicious about the meaning was the incredible frequency with which folks here describe food as "rico." Seriously, everything is "rico!" Maybe I'm old fashioned, but I prefer to be a bit more judicious when describing foods as delicious. Was that Tuna Helper actually delicious? No, it was satisfactory. What about the Clams Casino? Yes, that was actually delicious and by calling it "delicious" you have an adequate basis for determining if you too want some Clams Casino. I'm probably just uptight.). Upon arrival we were escorted to our table on the second floor of the restaurant. Three differences between a Chifa and a typical American Chinese restaurant immediately came to mind. First, there was a World Cup playing on several TVs in the background. Second, every single table (and by "every single table" I mean every single table) had one or more somewhat chilled bottles of Inca Kola on the table. I'm all about trying new things, and I tried Inca Kola, but I just can't force myself to like a bright yellow soft drink that tastes EXACTLY like bubble gum. It's the national drink of Peru and is more popular than Coke, but brother, it just doesn't do it for me. Third, all the diners were cheering for Uruguay rather than the Netherlands (and as we all know, the Chinese greatly favor northern European countries when it comes to soccer).

Some of you might think that the differences end there and that the rest of the lunch was comparable to a Chinese lunch in the US. In a sense, you're absolutely right. Besides the lack of chopsticks and way more Peruvian waiters, this Chifa did feel like an American Chinese restaurant. If it was 1955. From what my grandparents tell me about Chinese food during the Eisenhower administration, there was a lot less complexity and subtlety to the cooking (to cater to American diners, I suppose). Sauces were saucier, everything was fried, and it wasn't a successful meal unless you had a bright pink plate of sweet and sour something (don't forget the pineapple!). That fairly accurately describes food at the Chifas (except they also use spaghetti noodles in lieu of rice or egg noodles). I really enjoy all the facets and nuances of Peruvian cuisine, but for the life of me I can't understand why the Chifa is so rica. A trip to Dumpling House or anywhere in the San Gabriel Valley is a top priority upon returning to the US.

In other news, there are more pictures posted to the Flickr account if you have some time to kill. Also, those letters in the last post were not real. I know, they were extremely plausible, but I just wanted to clarify that I conjured them out of thin air. However, if you actually want to ask questions just email me at andrewmgreen@gmail.com and I will give you a response that is 50% actual information, 50% parenthetical sidetracking/useless commentary, and 100% rico.